


The Same Side

by NeedTheDark



Category: The Blacklist (US TV)
Genre: F/M, He knows that she knows that He knows blah blah, Interrogation, Just kiss now please, Kidnapping, cards on the table
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:08:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23858113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeedTheDark/pseuds/NeedTheDark
Summary: After learning Liz has been keeping secrets from him, Reddington kidnaps her, forces her to tell him the truth, and finds out more than he bargained for. Set at the end of S7x15. Lizzington angst/noir/fluff
Relationships: Elizabeth Keen & Raymond Reddington, Elizabeth Keen/Raymond Reddington
Comments: 19
Kudos: 109





	The Same Side

**Author's Note:**

> I've been away from TBL writing for a while due to some major life events. Easing back in with some straight up noir inspired by episode 7x15. NTDx

As Liz sipped the wine Reddington had poured for her, she could feel the tension of the day slipping away. She liked the image of her he had conjured as someone principled, someone who had done the right thing, rather than someone who had disobeyed their boss and betrayed their team. It was at times like this that she could almost forget that she didn’t know his real name, that he had kept something so fundamental from her. Tonight she wanted nothing more than his company.

When his cell-phone rang he said very little to the caller, though she knew him well enough to detect the barest hint of tension in his features. He ended the call abruptly, his gaze fixed on her, and she felt a frisson of anxiety stir inside her.

“Is everything alright?” she asked as neutrally as possible.

He declined to answer, only raised his glass in a toast. “To being on the same side.”

Liz felt relief wash over her and smiled warmly, raising her glass to him. “At long last.”

They sipped their wine in companionable silence for a moment, and when Liz met his eye again he nodded to her glass with a gentle smile.

“Top you up?”

Liz bit the corner of her lip hesitantly and looked at her watch. “Agnes is with the sitter… Maybe just one more?” she finished, smiling at him mischievously.

He laughed gently and took her glass to refill it.

“I can’t tell you what a pleasure it was to watch her dance, so _graceful_ and _confident_ ” he said, his eyes sparkling at the memory. “She’s grown so quickly.”

“I know” Liz sighed nostalgically as he handed her the wine. “It seems like yesterday I was holding her in my arms.”

She broke from her reverie as Reddington raised his glass to her.

“Cheers!” he said brightly.

She smiled and took a deep sip from the glass, grateful that the events of the day were beginning to blur away. The aftertaste was strangely bitter, and she frowned a little.

“Something wrong?” Reddington asked, raising his eyebrows.

Liz colored. “Oh, no – this one’s a little tart I guess… but what do I know about wine?” she said, smiling politely.

“Ah” he said matter-of-factly. “That would be the sedative. A dreadful thing to do to a particularly fine Chateau Lafite, but needs must.”

Liz’s lips parted in shock as she processed what he’d said. Her head began to swim and she blinked as her vision blurred.

“What are you doing?” she breathed in alarm, trying desperately to stay conscious.

Reddington’s jovial façade had fallen away and he was staring at her, his eyes dark and jaw tight with regret.

“Elizabeth, we need to have a conversation. I know you’ve been investigating me. You’ve unearthed certain…secrets. And you’ve kept it from me” he said heavily.

Her heart pounding, Liz gripped the table edge and tried to get up, her legs trembling. Reddington shook his head with a sigh and came to stand behind her, his hands resting firmly on her shoulders and pushing her back into her seat. Panic was crowding her senses and her racing heart was pumping the sedative through her body, bringing darkness with it. She was dimly aware of his hand on her forehead, cradling her head against him as she slipped into unconsciousness.

* * *

When Liz came to she was sitting on a metal chair in a dark, cavernous room, her wrists tied tightly behind her back. It was cold and musty and she shivered, looking about her to try to gauge where she was. The first thing she saw was a metal table near the chair, on which there were medical supplies neatly laid out; syringes, vials and sterile wipes. Her heart rate quickened and she instinctively tugged at the restraints. A moment later Reddington appeared out of the gloom carrying a second chair which he placed in front of her, taking a seat.

Liz’s breathing was ragged as she took in his appearance, his face ghostly in the blackness of the room. The casual open shirt he had worn earlier that evening was nowhere to be seen, instead replaced with his full armory of vest, tie, overcoat, fedora and black leather gloves. Shadows played on his face in the dark, and it chilled her to think that this was the Reddington that so many had seen before meeting their death.

He said nothing for a while, only staring at her with dark hooded eyes before sighing and looking about at their surroundings.

“I do everything I can to keep you away from places like this” he said eventually, his voice low and resonant in the empty space. “I’ve built an _empire_ for the purposes of keeping you safe…”

He paused, shaking his head and Liz could see that he was wrestling with himself. She recalled a time when her greatest fear was that he valued his secrets above her, that he’d only pretended to care about her to protect himself. Tonight was it, she thought desolately, the climax of their years of turbulence. This was the moment they would lay their cards on the table and she felt woefully ill-equipped.

Reddington sucked in a breath as if steeling himself. “To this day that empire has fulfilled its function of protecting us both. But in order to continue to protect myself it’s imperative that I know what you’ve uncovered, and who you’ve told.”

Adrenaline and fear were racing through Liz’s body as she thought about the table with medical supplies beside her, and she crumpled her chin defiantly. “So what – you’re going to have your interrogator come in here to torture me?”

Reddington’s lip twitched in distaste at the suggestion. “Of course not. I’m not going to harm you, Elizabeth” he said heavily. “But I do need to find out how much is known about my past… My identity.”

Liz looked at him warily as he rose and walked to the table, pursing his lips as he began to fill a syringe. She pulled at the restraints again, but the chair was bolted to the floor and the cable ties that held her were immovable.

“What’s that?” she asked nervously, craning her neck to see what he was doing.

“A compound similar to Thiopental” he responded, pausing to roll up her sleeve. “Developed by an associate of mine, and really quite effective.”

“ _Truth serum?_ ” she asked in disbelief.

He stayed silent and proceeded to rub an alcohol wipe on her upper arm. It felt shockingly cold against her skin and she instinctively tried to move away.

“You don’t need to do this” she said urgently. “You could just ask me.”

“Unfortunately that ceased being an option when I discovered you’d deceived me yet again. I can’t trust you. You’ve proven that often enough” he said quietly as he carefully flicked the end of the syringe to ensure there were no air bubbles.

“No! Wait-” she began, but it was too late.

She gasped as he inserted the needle firmly into her arm and pressed the plunger. The effect was immediate; a warm rush coursed through her, igniting her senses and flooding her with a distinctly artificial feeling of pleasure and exhilaration. She swallowed dizzily and watched as he calmly took his seat in front of her again.

“What if this was you, huh?” she breathed angrily. “How many secrets are _you_ keeping?”

“A great deal” he replied evenly. “And you are the one who has taken it upon herself to find them out, Agent Keen. However, _unlike_ you I respect others’ right to privacy. You have my word that I won’t ask you anything except that which pertains to my business.”

“Right” Liz huffed, rolling her eyes. “Your _code_. If you think there’s anything at all that justifies what you’re doing then you’re deluded. _God_ … You’ve kept so many secrets from me. From everyone. Your entire life, your _identity_ is lie upon lie - I don’t know how you keep track of it all! I’ve barely scratched the surface and I’m already lost in it-”

She broke off abruptly as she realised what was happening. She was babbling and had almost volunteered the information he was after without even being questioned. She cursed inwardly and bit her lip hard, trying to stay focused.

“It’s best if you don’t try to fight it” he said quietly.

She looked at him and for the first time since they’d been here he was gazing at her with genuine concern. It was an expression she missed dearly and in her hazy state she wanted to fall into it, into him, to be held in his arms and forget the feuds they’d had. They suddenly seemed unimportant. But there was something else too - the voice at the back of her mind and her FBI training - telling her not to give in. She pursed her lips and looked down at the floor to escape his penetrating gaze.

“Let’s start with the PI” Reddington continued slowly. “How did you select her?”

“You leave her out of it” Liz said vehemently, before realisation dawned. “It must have been her who gave me up… Did you let Mr Brimley loose on her? She didn’t know what she was getting herself into.”

“What _you_ were getting her into” Reddington countered. “How did you find her?”

Liz tried to keep her eyes on the floor but her mind was spinning. So many thoughts and answers and ideas were floating around. She could give him something now, something to make him think she was cooperating, and withhold the stuff that mattered, she thought.

“Through a contact of mine from Quantico. I asked him to look into Ilya, and he came up empty. He recommended her. A ghost hunter.”

“How very apt” Reddington said in a low voice. “I suppose what I’m particularly interested in is why, having found evidence to suggest that my former identity was that of Ilya Koslov, you subsequently attempted to find him elsewhere. You had to know what you were looking for.”

Liz shrugged. “Suspicious mind, I guess. I inherited it from my mother.”

She laughed then, unable to help herself, and Reddington canted his head curiously. “I suspect that’s not all you inherited from her” he said, his eyes narrowed. “Someone gave you information, valuable information that you’ve been using in your misguided quest for answers.”

A flash of anger sparked inside Liz at his arrogance, that he had wilfully concealed the fact that her mother was alive from her. “You knew” she said accusingly. “You knew my mother was alive and you kept it from me.”

“To protect you-”

“To protect yourself!” Liz spat. “And Ilya, whoever he is.”

“I understand” Reddington said slowly. “In which case I have to ask another question. You have continued to pursue me… my past… with more _tenacity_ than I thought possible. If you weren’t looking for information about your mother, I am truly at a loss to understand why.”

And there it was, the question Liz had dearly hoped he would avoid asking. She shook her head tightly and looked at the ground.

“Elizabeth” he said firmly.

“No. _No_ ” she breathed, pleased that she was able to resist. “You need to stop this. You’ve kidnapped an FBI agent, do you know how many federal laws you’re breaking-”

She broke off as Reddington stood up abruptly and walked to the table. He proceeded to fill another syringe and Liz felt tears of frustration and fear prick her eyes.

She looked up at him with shimmering eyes. “Please don’t ask me” she whispered.

She saw a brief look of pain cross his face before she felt the prick of the needle in her arm. She closed her eyes, squeezing the tears out. When she opened them again he had taken his seat again, his face pale and drawn with regret.

“I’m sorry” he said heavily. “That it’s come to this. I’m sorry there’s so much at stake. That events that began before you were even born have had such a… _profound_ impact on you. But I need to know. Having discovered the truth about your parents, why did you continue to investigate me.”

Liz shook her head, her mind swirling distractedly with an enticing high coursing through her. “I need to know who you are” she whispered. “I have a right to know.”

Reddington shook his head, his brow creased in a frown. “What possible reason could you have to think you have a right to that information?”

Liz raised her eyes to meet his then, her voice quavering. “I have a right to know the father of my child.”

Reddington stilled, the slight tremble of his lip the only indication that he had heard her.

“This wasn’t about exposing you” Liz sighed. “I never wanted to hurt you. I needed to know. For Agnes.”

“Agnes” Reddington breathed, swallowing hard.

Liz nodded with a sad smile. “That’s right. Raymond…”

Reddington nodded, blinking. “Why didn’t you-” he began hoarsely.

“Why didn’t I tell you?” Liz finished, tilting her head. “Why do you think? No one knows, no one _can_ know… She’s in danger because of who her parents are, just like I was. Everything I’ve done – faking my death, investigating you – it’s all been to protect her. You of all people should understand that.”

Reddington nodded silently, his gaze fixed on her with something like wonder and disbelief.

“Raymond?” Liz said gently. “Untie me.”

* * *

**One week later**

Liz sat on a park bench, the afternoon sun warming her skin. She sensed rather than saw Reddington approach, and smiled into the distance as he took a seat next to her. For a while they sat in silence, until Reddington followed Liz’s gaze across the path to a children’s play area.

“You brought Agnes” he said quietly, the pleasure evident in his voice.

“Yeah” Liz breathed. “She’s your daughter. I want you to know her. To be in her life.”

“There’s nothing I want more in this world” he said softly. “To be in her life. Hers…and yours” he said, swallowing. “If you’ll let me.”

Liz turned to look at him. “I thought I was doing the right thing. For her. But I’m glad. I’m glad you know. Because this… this feels right.”

Reddington smiled softly as Agnes abandoned her swing and ran over to them.

“Raymond!” she exclaimed warmly, and Reddington smiled broadly.

“Hello, Agnes. Do you know, I think I saw a gelato stand back there. How does that sound?”

“Yummy!”

“Excellent” Reddington chuckled.

Agnes took each of their hands excitedly, and the three of them walked back across the park together.


End file.
